


The Letters That Bind

by metatiki (tklivory), tklivory



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Drinking, Exhibitionism, Fingerfucking, Flirting, Foot Massage, Foreplay, Frottage, Holding Hands, M/M, Massage, Minor Female Cadash/Josephine Montilyet, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Secret Crush, Secret Messages, Some Plot, Spanking, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27653653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tklivory/pseuds/metatiki, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tklivory/pseuds/tklivory
Summary: HOOK:One day Cullen receives a mysterious note with intriguing instructions, and from there, things get a bit heated with Dorian as chess games take on a whole new meaning. And that is only the beginning, especially once the Iron Bull decides that he wants to play as well...NOTES:This is a porn withsomeplot—say, about a smidgen's worth. Relationships are all noted, but each chapter focuses primarily on two characters at a time. The kink tags will be updated with each chapter during initial publication because I'm still writing it.
Relationships: Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford, Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, The Iron Bull/Cullen Rutherford, The Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus/Cullen Rutherford
Comments: 19
Kudos: 70





	1. Hand and Foot

Something rustled beneath Cullen as he settled into his seat at the chess table, prompting him to reach beneath the cushion of the chair to extract a small, folded piece of paper. A quick glance around the garden showed no one else nearby, with Dorian nowhere to be seen—as was typical for their now habitual chess games. With a frown, Cullen unfolded it and scanned the paper, his eyebrows rising and a bit of heat touching his ears as the words penetrated his mind.

_Take off your gloves. Run your hands through your hair. Watch the hands. See what you learn._

It was certainly _odd,_ to say the least—and not only because it wasn't signed and had been written with deliberately blocky letters that couldn't be easily traced back to the user. No, what truly made his ears darken was that he'd found himself pondering Dorian's hands only yesterday, during the weekly Wicked Grace game in the tavern. And now there was this note...

Quickly he turned the note over, hoping to learn more about its origins, and saw the other part of the challenge, _Write down what you feel and leave me where you found me._

Apparently Cullen had made his scrutiny of Dorian obvious enough for someone to notice, if he had received such a directive. But was it _unwelcome?_

"Ah, Commander!"

Quickly shoving the paper into his tunic, Cullen looked up with a smile as the other man approached the table. "Altus. You're late."

"Fashionably so, as always, my dear Commander," Dorian noted, settling into his chair with a flagrant wink at Cullen. "I see you've arranged the pieces. Shall we?"

"I believe we shall." Tugging his gloves off, Cullen set them to the side. Was it his imagination, or did Dorian's gaze lock on his bare hands for a few moments before falling back to the pieces again. Was that a furtive glance upwards as Cullen deliberately ran his fingers through his own mane, or only chance?

It turned out there was something surprisingly erotic about watching the hands of an extraordinarily handsome man, especially when he had a habit of reaching up to toy with his uncovered bicep in a way Cullen could only describe as artlessly sensual. More intriguing even than that, however, was the way Dorian sucked his lower lip into his mouth every time Cullen ran his fingers through his hair, and soon the motion became a habit simply for the mage's reaction. By the time the match came to its conclusion, Cullen realized that his hair was thoroughly mussed, and he didn't even care.

He _was_ convinced, however, that Dorian was the originator of the mysterious note. After all, why else would Dorian be doing exactly what had been stipulated in the note, unless he’d been the one to write it? Once the mage had taken his leave, Cullen pulled the paper from his tunic and hastily jotted down the thoughts swirling in his mind.

Perhaps... Well, he couldn't quite imagine where this might lead. _Yet,_ anyway. All he knew is that he was intrigued, excited, and aroused.

And that he definitely wanted another note.

* * *

The next time he heard the rustle under his seat, Cullen reached under the cushion to grab the paper instantly. It had been a couple of days since that first note, and he'd been wondering if there would be another one at their next chess game. With a quick glance around him to make sure no one was near, he unfolded the paper and quickly read the contents.

_Keep your hands naked, and stroke skin._

His eyes widened slightly, as much at the choice of words as the actual suggestion. _Naked_ conveyed a certain hedonistic quality, after all, especially considering the revelations that simply _watching_ the man had been before. And _stroke,_ well...there was really only one specific section of skin that was typically the target of _stroking._

Flipping the paper over, he again saw the short order to write what he felt on the paper, and quickly tucked it into his tunic. Once that was done, he tugged his gloves off and flexed his fingers.

"And here we are again," a warm voice said with a chuckle, just before Dorian dropped into his chair with a graceful ease.

Cullen's gaze immediately gravitated to Dorian's skin: his bare arm and hands, the expanse of his neck, and finally his face. His awareness of Dorian's allure had been quick to grow but slow to acknowledge, as much for the chaos of the move to Skyhold as his own personal preference. If it hadn't been for Bull's needling during the card games at the Herald's Rest, Cullen wondered if he would have allowed himself to acknowledge the bronto in the room.

Still, here they were—with Cullen openly staring at Dorian, whose lips were starting to curve with a distinct smirk. Forcing himself to answer, Cullen nodded brusquely. "A single encounter rarely reveals everything."

Dorian's eyes dropped to Cullen's hands where they currently worked at arranging the pieces on the table, then flickered quickly over the rest of Cullen. "Hmm, true. I look forward to learning more about you this time." He reached forward and picked up some of the pieces, helping Cullen to arrange them.

_Stroke skin._

The words flashed through Cullen's mind as he watched Dorian's hands, and before he knew it, his fingers were drawing along the surprisingly warm skin of the back of Dorian's hand. "Allow me," he murmured, then slowly closed his fingers around the piece. The way Dorian's gaze fell to their touching hands, coupled with the way his fingers ever so slowly relinquished the piece in question, made Cullen bite the inside of his lower lip. That look in his eyes...was that hunger? It certainly felt _heated,_ and by the time Cullen drew the piece away and Dorian raised his eyes to lock gazes with Cullen, he felt more than a little warm himself.

"You're too kind," Dorian murmured, then held out another piece, resting on the open palm of his hand. "Do you desire this one as well?"

 _Desire._ The word echoed in Cullen's ears, and again he wondered if Dorian had written the note. _Of course he did,_ Cullen told himself. _Who else would have written such a thing?_ Besides, the way that Dorian's fingers curled ever so slightly to hook Cullen's hand as he reached for the piece, tugging him forward just as he leaned in, seemed to indicate that he knew about the instruction—or had at least caught on. As Cullen's fingers closed around the piece, Dorian's fingers wandered up Cullen's wrist to the edge of Cullen's sleeve, then slipped underneath to stroke slowly.

 _Maker,_ how could a mere touch be so damned arousing?

Swallowing harshly, Cullen said, "Thank you."

A smile warmed Dorian's eyes as he shifted forward on his chair. "It was my pleasure, Commander."

Cullen blindly set the piece down on the board, his eyes darting up and down on Dorian's face. Turning his hand over, he let his fingers touch Dorian's wrist in return, savoring the feel of the warm, smooth skin. He felt a slight increase in pressure as Dorian pressed down into his touch, and wondered why his mouth suddenly felt dry. With effort, he pulled his hand away and gestured at the board. He wanted to touch, yes, but he also wanted to feel the exquisite arousal of _drawing it out._

And draw it out they did, they eyes doing almost as many fleeting touches as their fingers. After a dozen or so moves, Cullen removed his vambraces and set them on the ground next to his chair, specifically so he could tug up his sleeves. He was definitely feeling a bit warm, and had absently spread his legs to accommodate the increased blood flow that was the inevitable result of all this drawn out flirting. By the time that Dorian threw the game in Cullen's favor, Cullen couldn't tell if it was because Dorian had been outplayed, or because of their respective conditions.

As a smirk settled on his face, Cullen leaned in and toppled Dorian's final piece. "And I come out on top once more," he said, choosing his words with deliberation.

Dorian shifted forward in his chair, ostensibly to return the pieces to the board, yet somehow his mouth ended up within inches of Cullen's own. "Is that your preferred position, Commander?" he asked in a light tone.

 _Sweet Andraste._ There simply was no way to answer that without a kiss, and Cullen's eyes dropped down to contemplate the mouth below the mustache. Surely the challenge he'd been given almost demanded that touching Dorian's skin included his lips, wouldn't it?

Judging by the look in Dorian's eye, such a touch would not be amiss.

A movement in the corner of his eyes, though, made him turn his head sharply, in time to see Inquisitor Cadash approach, squinting at a piece of paper with a frown on her face. Both men drew apart as she said, "Commander, I'm trying to make heads or tails of this report and—" As she looked up, she blinked. "Oh! I'm sorry, am I interrupting something?"

"Of course not, Inquisitor," Dorian assured her, swiftly moving to stand behind the chair and thus neatly hiding his body from the waist down. "We had just finished the game. Somehow I lost again, so obviously a rematch will be required until I prove my supremacy."

Cullen snorted. "The third time isn’t always the charm in chess," he pointed out dryly. He didn't stand to greet the Inquisitor, though. First of all, because she didn't like all the humans towering over her, and second of all...well, her eyes were a bit too close to groin-level, and there were definitely things he'd prefer her not to notice at the moment.

"Good," Cadash said as she climbed into the chair. "Because I can't figure out these patrol reports at _all._ I'm a smuggler, not a soldier, dammit."

That made Dorian laugh. "Oh, you're far more than that, but I will leave you two to pore over the reports." His eyes turned to Cullen over the Inquisitor's head, one eyebrow rising as his hand smoothed down the center of his torso, disappearing from sight before it reached its incredibly obvious destination. "I have some personal business to attend to, myself."

 _Damn him._ "Next game in two days, then?"

"Better make it tomorrow," the Inquisitor said without looking up from the paper in her hand. "I want Dorian with me to investigate those ruins Leliana's agents found in the Western Approach, and we're heading out in two days."

"Of course, Inquisitor." Cullen met Dorian's gaze with a lifted eyebrow of his own. "Tomorrow, then."

"I will be here, Commander," Dorian said softly, then turned and walked hurriedly from the garden.

Cullen's fingers reached into his tunic and touched the folded missive there, even as he turned his attention to the Inquisitor's questions.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough, and, quite frankly, neither could he.

* * *

This time he found the note buried in his reports, one piece of paper whose presence was disguised by the close proximity of several other pieces of paper. Folded and lightly sealed with a hint of wax, it looked the same as several other reports he'd already read that morning, but the contents...

Oh, they were definitely _not_ just a report.

_No smalls, no socks. Just unlaced pants and easy to remove shoes._

Cullen felt heat rise in his neck as he read the paper, his treacherous mind already coming up with so many _reasons_ for such a stipulation. The chess table would certainly be intimate enough to allow them access to the other beneath it, but such activity would be visible should anyone happen to wander by.

And, Maker help him, that thought proved to be more than a bit arousing.

Turning the paper over, his eyebrows rose in surprise as he read the instructions. They proved to be very different from previous notes, and far more direct: _Wipe the results with me and leave me under the cushion._

 _Wipe the — _ Cullen's eyes widened. _Oh._ Oh. _Ohhh._ Again, Cullen found himself torn between embarrassment and excitement, though the thought crossed his mind as to why Dorian would want _that._ After all, he could surely acquire such a bounty with his own hand.

Suddenly it occurred to Cullen that perhaps Dorian asked for it simply to see if Cullen would obey, a notion as singularly intriguing as it was titillating. It was obvious by this point that Dorian knew exactly what Cullen had been instructed to do, and was a willing participant in carrying the orders out, but Cullen had to admit that using the route of leaving mysterious notes made the whole affair that much more alluring.

Shaking himself, Cullen quickly made the necessary modifications to his wardrobe, then hurried to the garden in eager anticipation of what was to come.

As usual, Cullen arrived at the table first and set the pieces up. Then, as casually as he could manage, he reached down and tugged open the top of his breeches. Not enough to put everything on display, but certainly enough that a sufficiently determined individual could gain access.

He didn't hear Dorian approach, but as the man cheerfully greeted him and dropped into his chair, Cullen couldn't help but glance down to confirm why. As he'd suspected—and hoped—instead of his normal boots, Dorian wore a light slipper similar to what Cullen had donned. Even as Cullen watched, Dorian tugged off one of those slippers and wiggled his long, dexterous toes, then slipped the foot under the table and out of Cullen's sight. 

Cullen's gaze flicked up to look at Dorian, and saw Dorian already looking at him with an odd intensity. "See something interesting, Commander?"

Cullen cleared his throat hastily and avoided answering the question. "Ah. Since I've won the last two, I thought you could start this time."

"Very generous of you," Dorian murmured, then leaned back in his chair as he considered the board.

Which was when Cullen felt that bare foot slide up one of his legs. Swallowing audibly, Cullen slowly dropped back into the chair, shifting his hips forward as he spread his knees. He couldn't help but glance over to the rest of the garden, but quickly determined that they were alone for the moment. When deft toes tugged the top of his pants wide open, his gaze snapped back to Dorian, who smirked noticeably.

"I see you are well prepared for this round," Dorian murmured in a low-pitched voice, and Cullen abruptly realized that he was already stiff, and growing harder under the man's touch. "Delicious."

As those oh-so-delightful toes set to work with long, slow strokes, Cullen fought not to squirm too much. He'd never considered just how erotic such a touch would be, since feet had previously not been on his list as _sexy body parts. Y_ et here he was, knees spread knees wide as he practically whimpered with pleasure under Dorian's skillful ministrations. His hands rose to grip the sides of the table, causing the pieces set on it to rattle, and his breath came short and quick, especially when he felt Dorian's other foot join in. The pleasure kept mounting, until it was all he could do not to give voice to his appreciation in a way that anyone in Skyhold would hear and possibly recognize.

Just before he reached the point of culmination, however, Dorian withdrew. In aroused confusion, Cullen opened eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to give Dorian a pleading look. Dorian, however, was looking into the garden, and Cullen quickly followed his gaze to where a towering figure was making his way towards them.

With a mental curse at Bull's timing, Cullen leaned forward over the table and squeezed his knees together, hoping that would be enough to hide his current state. Dorian copied him, though as Bull drew close, Cullen felt a foot slowly stroke up his lower leg. Cullen hoped that the gesture wouldn't be visible given Bull's height, but damn if it wasn't just as erotic as a kiss at the moment. "Bull," he greeted the man in a strained voice.

"Commander. Vint." Bull nodded to each man in turn. "The Inquisitor said I might find you here."

"And here we are," Dorian said with a forced smile. "Surprise."

"I just wanted to invite both of you to the card game tonight," Bull said with an expansive shrug. "Seeing as how the Vint will be gone for a couple of weeks wandering around in Approach, Varric wanted another go at taking all of his money."

Dorian snorted. "Of course he does."

Cullen had to laugh ruefully. "Or mine. He did it often enough in Kirkwall."

"What am I, chopped nug?" Bull protested. "I've gotten a sovereign out of you two at one time or another."

To Cullen's surprise, Dorian blushed at the comment and said hastily, "So you're not going with us to the Approach?"

"Nah. Scouts told the Inquisitor there'd be a dragon there, and she still doesn't trust me around dragons after how I reacted about the first one she killed."

As Dorian groaned and buried his face in his hands, Cullen raised an eyebrow. "How did you—"

"You don't want to know," Dorian broke in quickly. "Let's just say it involves things that should not be described in polite company."

"I'm hardly polite, Vint," Bull said with a grin.

"That is quite obvious, beast, but I'm trying to spare the poor Commander here," Dorian said acerbically. "And you're interrupting our match."

Bull just laughed as he looked at the pieces. "Doesn't look like you've gotten very far." He squinted at the board, frowning a bit. "Actually, I think a piece is missing. I wonder if it fell off the table." 

As Bull started to bend down to look for the piece, Cullen squawked, "Don't worry about it. I know where it is." He suspected he must have knocked it off the table, and a desperate glance at the ground next to his chair revealed it. Reaching down, he retrieved the piece and showed it to Bull before setting it back in place. "The wind must have knocked it off."

"The wind. Uh huh." Bull gave Cullen a knowing smirk, and heat rose in Cullen's cheeks. Before he could wonder just how much Bull might have seen, the Qunari shrugged. "Doesn't really matter, I suppose. So, you two in for the card game or not?"

"I'll be there," Cullen said, hoping the answer would make Bull leave. As Bull's gaze moved to Dorian expectantly, however, Dorian's foot moved from where it had been slowly stroking Cullen's shin to between his legs, finding and lightly stroking the tip of Cullen's aching length. Crushing his lip between his teeth, Cullen's hands landed on his thighs and squeezed tightly as he felt a burst of liquid escape to wet Dorian's toes. That, of course, just made it feel that much better as those same toes resumed their stroking motion, worming between Cullen's legs with single-minded determination.

He was aware that Dorian answered Bull's question, though the words didn't really register fully in his mind. More importantly, Bull accepted the answer with a grunt and turned away from them, waving over his shoulder. As he did so, Dorian lifted his other foot and shoved it between Cullen's legs to stroke Cullen's now tight balls, squeezing sensitive bits together in such a way as to elicit another spurt of liquid and a soft moan from Cullen. As the heat burned in his cheeks, Cullen quickly glanced towards the garden. Was Bull looking back at them? If he was, could he see what was happening under the table?

And why did that particular thought send a surge through his groin that made his hips buck forward into Dorian's deliciously wicked grip?

"Enjoying yourself, Commander?" Dorian asked with a wicked grin.

"Maferath's balls, just...don't stop," Cullen groaned as he spread his knees wide and let his head drop back.

It didn't take long after that for Dorian's feet to acquire a more thorough coating as a reward for their hard work. The force of his climax left Cullen panting and oblivious to the world around him for a few moments, though eventually he became aware of Dorian's insouciant grin on the other side of the table.

"Shall I count that as a victory, Commander?" he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

Cullen growled wordlessly, then launched his response. It left Dorian in much the same condition as Cullen had been, leaving Cullen plenty of time to pull out the paper and wipe his feet with it obediently. For a moment, he wondered why Dorian would ask it of him, then decided it didn't matter.

He did look forward to finding out, though, when the time came.


	2. Hand to Cheek

The first week of Dorian's absence passed with excruciating tedium. Every time he passed by the chess table he felt a heat rise within, and every morning without realizing it, he checked for all the places he could possibly find a note before he remembered that Dorian was, in fact, gone. When word reached Skyhold that the originally planned two weeks was going to stretch to _more_ due to the taking of a new Keep whose establishment the Inquisitor wanted to oversee, Cullen toyed with the idea of going himself before shaking himself back into being responsible and sending Captain Rylen. After the order had been sent, however, he wandered around Skyhold listlessly, until he finally found himself at the chess table once more. 

His fingers brushed on the table's surface as he noted that the pieces were still left where they had been when Dorian had departed, in a game unfinished due to the activities under the table. He smiled, then closed his eyes as he felt the heat rise within again at the memory, and pondered if perhaps he had sufficient time to go to his bed and fully recall the memory.

"So, do you miss the game or the company?" a deep voice rumbled from right behind him.

Cullen started and turned around, then blinked when he found the scarred and incredibly _well-defined_ muscles of the Iron Bull mere inches from his face. "Maker, I never knew you could move so silently," he gasped.

Bull laughed and clapped Cullen on the shoulder. "Hissrad, remember? I have training to be sneaky. Or maybe you were just distracted or something."

Ears heating since he knew perfectly well it was most likely the latter, Cullen glared up at Bull. "I do miss the game," he said a bit stiffly, then heard his voice and sighed. "Sorry. It's just been a long day."

"I heard about the pre-dawn run you inflicted on the troops, yes," Bull noted. "And the one yesterday, and the one before that. Oh, and a couple of sunset runs. And maybe a post-lunch run thrown in a time or two." Bull crossed his arms, and Cullen stared at the edges of his muscles for a moment before dragging his eyes up to Bull's face once more. "You _do_ know that's a bit much, don't you? Need to talk to someone?"

"N-no," Cullen said hastily. "No, I'm perfectly fine."

Bull gave him a _look_ which, in all honesty, was even worse since he had only one eye. "Commander, may I respectfully disagree? Because normally you keep things balanced, but not this week."

With a wince, Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, to those who are trained to look for weaknesses like that...yeah. But luckily for you, I'm duty bound to report everything I observe to the Inquisition. And since the Inquisition's Commander is acting out of his usual patterns, I thought I'd report that fact to you first. You know. As the Commander."

Cullen rolled his eyes. "Point taken, Bull," he muttered.

"Come on." Bull reached past him and patted the table. "Maybe a game will help clear your head."

"A game? Oh. Chess. Right." Cullen cleared his throat, trying to not linger on the sheer _heat_ Bull's body had emanated as he'd leaned past Cullen or the fibers of muscle that were visible when he was so very close. "Ah, I'll take black."

Bull raised his eyebrow. "You sure? I'm no stranger to chess, you know."

Cullen lifted his chin, emboldened by the man's confidence. "I should warn you, neither am I."

"Hmm." Bull reached up to scratch his chin. "Well, maybe in that case we should make a bet on the outcome. Say...buying the drinks for a night at the tavern?"

"That hardly seems fair," Cullen replied. "You can drink a _lot_ more than I can."

"So, afraid you'll lose, eh?" Bull asked with a grin.

Back stiffening, Cullen growled, "You're on."

An hour later, Cullen pondered the board with a sinking sensation in his stomach. There was no way out of the pickle he'd gotten himself into on the board, and he felt the looming reality of an empty coin purse the longer he stared at it.

"Is there a problem?" Bull asked in a bland tone.

"No. No, not a problem." Cullen scowled at the board, willing himself to find a way out of his predicament. When none came, he finally sighed and sat back in his chair, running his fingers through his curls. "Maybe."

Bull chuckled. "Care to call it a game and meet at the tavern tonight?"

"Fine, yes," Cullen said with a groan. "Just...don't pauper me, all right? You already took enough of my sovereigns in the game last week."

"I can't promise anything, but I'll do my best," Bull said with a grin.

Which is how, to put a long story short, Cullen ended up trying to figure out which of the two mugs he was holding in his hand was the _real_ one, and which was the one created by the beer Bull had been ordering all evening. When he guessed wrong, Bull laughed and took the now-empty mug and grabbed a cloth from behind the bar to mop the excess beer off. "All right," Bull said with a chuckle. "Time to pour you into bed, I think."

"I almost ha' it," Cullen insisted, squinting to figure out which Bull was the real one, and poked towards it. His finger found a wall of muscle, certain enough, but not the center as he'd intended, and Bull laughed.

"If you want to molest me, you'd better do it in private," he teased.

Cullen blushed. "What? No, I--" Suddenly the world spun a bit, and Cullen fell into Bull. "Wha--"

"Time for bed," Bull repeated, rising to his feet. "Come on. You won't be the first one I've helped back to bed after a solid night of drinking."

There were a few wry glances as they made their way out of the bar, and Cullen wondered what his men would make of seeing a drunken Commander weaving out of the Herald's Rest with the help of the Iron Bull. Still, as Bull had said, it wasn't the first time for Bull, and back in his days in Kirkwall, Cullen had acted as escort--or escortee--a few times himself.

The short walk from tavern to his quarters did help a bit, but when Bull finally opened the door and helped him inside, the ladder leading up to his bed seemed more daunting than ever. "Oh, Maker," he moaned.

Bull laughed heartily as he closed the door. "Didn't think that through, huh? Don't worry, I have your back." And, before Cullen could object, Bull grabbed him and heaved him over his shoulder.

Cullen yelped, then reached down to grab what he could as Bull started up the ladder. "Careful!" he said, even as he found himself once again getting distracted by the heat coming off the man's body. _Is that why he doesn't wear a shirt?_ he thought fuzzily. _Because his body runs hot? I wonder if it's all his body..._ Of course, just that thought was enough to make Cullen flush and think a little too hard about the sheer strength of the arm holding him on Bull's shoulder.

By the time they reached the top of the ladder and Bull put him back on his feet, he knew his face was red. Hoping Bull would ascribe it to the alcohol and the position, Cullen looked away from Bull and rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah, thanks."

"Need some help getting rid of the armor?" Bull offered. "I mean, your clothes aren't near as complicated as the Vint's, but still might be tricky to get off on your own."

"The Vi--Oh, Dorian." Cullen's flush spread a bit lower over his body. "You've...ah, helped him undress?"

"Oh, he can get really drunk when he sets his mind to it, yes," Bull said with a chuckle. "So yeah, I've helped pour him into bed a time or two."

Cullen swallowed harshly, looking down at himself as he pondered removing all the various pieces of armor. "Well...just the armor, maybe," he finally conceded.

"Sure thing," Bull said easily.

Halfway through the process, Cullen realized that he was enjoying it far too much: Bull's heat, his size, his presence...and, oddly enough, the gentle care with which he did his task were enough to keep the heat beneath his skin and in the pit of his stomach in place and aching. By the time the last vambrace and greave had been removed, Cullen was well aware that his enjoyment was evident to anyone with eyes--or, in Bull's case, one eye--and he looked down, flustered and not sure what to do.

Bull sighed heavily. "Look," Bull said, "You're tense. You're distracted. You're driving your troops a bit too hard because you're driving yourself harder. I get it."

Cullen swallowed, not quite sure but wondering very hard what Bull was about to offer. "What are you saying?"

"I could help you with that. With the tension, I mean," Bull said. "In the Qun, we had Tamassran, women who did all sorts of things to help men relax. I could see if the same techniques work on you. You have oil right?"

 _Maker._ "Ah, of course. For my armor," he said hastily. "Uh, I keep it in my desk."

"Then that should work for a massage," Bull said with a nod. "All right. I'll go get it and be right back. Why don't you strip down and lie face down on the bed."

As Bull's mass creaked down the ladder, Cullen did just that, his blood pounding in his ears and his cock. Arranging himself face down wasn't the most pleasant thing, but he at least managed to arrange himself more or less comfortably by the time Bull returned. 

"Right, hands out to the side," Bull told him. Cullen nodded and stuck his arms out, shivering as the bed creaked beneath Bull's weight as the man straddled Cullen's back. There was the sound of Bull slicking his hands with oil, and then those hot, strong hands landed on his back and set to work.

"Oh, sweet Maker," Cullen groaned before he could stop himself.

Bull chuckled. "Like that?"

"Don't stop," Cullen gasped. "Please don't stop."

"Not my plan," Bull said with a chuckle, finding and chasing the knots in Cullen's muscles.

As the massage progressed, Cullen was forced to admit that he really had needed something like this. With Dorian gone, he'd thrown himself wholly into work. In fact, he realized, he hadn't really seen anyone but his troops for practically the whole week.

"You work too much," Bull grunted, as if echoing Cullen's thoughts. "You should take breaks more often. Maybe we could start playing chess every day. You might even learn a thing or two along the way."

Cullen had to laugh at that. "You got lucky," he shot back.

"Lucky?" Bull's hand slapped Cullen hard on the ass. "See if I ever let you win a game."

Cullen, however, froze. The slap had been meant in jest, but the reaction of his body and the surge of pleasure that hardened his cock took him completely by surprise. Before he could stop it, a soft plea to Andraste passed his lips in a whisper as his hips dug into the mattress.

Bull's hands paused on Cullen's back. "What was that?"

"Ah, nothing," Cullen said hastily, trying to ignore the rising tension and hoping Bull wouldn't notice. "I'm fine."

He jumped when the hand slapped the other side of his ass, and suddenly he felt a hot breath against his ear. "You sure?" Bull asked in a low rumble, one that Cullen felt all the way in the pit of his stomach.

 _Fuck,_ Cullen thought and, to his chagrin, whispered.

"I thought so." Bull's hand left where it rested on Cullen's shoulder, and a moment later cracked Cullen on the ass with one broad hand, making him jump and moan. "From where I sit, Commander, it looks like you've got more than one kind of tension you need help working through."

"I--You--I don't--" Cullen stammered, then yelped as Bull slapped his ass harder, leaving a stinging redness in its wake. When Bull then set his hand to massage the ache away, however, Cullen couldn't help but groan and squirm beneath the touch, aware that his whole body was probably flushed now, and the alcohol did little to help him keep a leash on his tongue. "Fuck, yes."

Bull's chest vibrated again as he chuckled, and in the next moment he pulled away, the bed creaking as he stood. There was a rustling of cloth and a thud of something hitting the floor, and then Bull's weight settled on the bed again. This time, however, as Bull straddled him, Cullen noticed instantly that it was bare skin against bare skin, and a heavy something hard came to a rest on the crack between his buttocks. As Bull's hands landed on Cullen's shoulders and dragged down, using a bit of fingernail, Cullen gasped and shuddered, hips digging into the mattress with more fervor. "Hmm, yeah, we'd better get rid of that tension," Bull said with a chuckle. There was the sound of oil slicking on his hands again, and then abruptly Bull smacked him again, once per asscheek, hard enough to make Cullen gasp and jerk. This was followed by a second round, then a third, until Cullen could feel the blood pounding throughout his body, and the skin of his asscheeks became sensitive enough that the cool brush of air made him shiver.

So, when Bull's hands turned from striking his ass to gently kneading the lovingly tortured skin, the bliss was greater than it would have been without the sensitization. Cullen shuddered as Bull's fingers gently kneaded him, suffering wave after wave of pleasure as they shot down his spine. When one of Bull's thumbs stroked along the rim of his entrance, his hips jerked as liquid leaked out into the blanket beneath them. "Maferath's balls," he swore, then instinctively tried to spread his legs as Bull repeated the action with more deliberation. Cullen was distantly aware that his own moans grew more frequent and more fervent, but all that mattered was Bull's fingers and what he did with them.

When Bull rolled off of him, he barely kept himself from whimpering in complaint. In the next moment, however, strong hands grasped his hips and turned him over, a motion Cullen followed them eagerly. Almost without thought, his eyes dropped from Bull's face down to the expansive cock he'd felt pressing against his lower back with greater and greater heat. He bit his lip hard, feeling not so much intimidated as aroused, but wondered if he were truly ready. After all, it had been a while since he'd properly prepared for that, and certainly not before going drinking with Bull.

Bull laughed. "No, this time we're working on your tension," he said as he grabbed the oil and slicked both his hands, then wrapped one around each man's cock. "So I'll make sure your tension is completely gone by the time I'm done with you."

Cullen's hands grasped the blanket tight enough to make his knuckles ache as Bull's hand set into motion. His skill showed in every subtle squeeze and lingering finger stroke, until Cullen again fell into a mindless haze of bliss. As his blood pounded in his ears and his lips slowly dried from his pants and moans, the tension within slowly winding tighter and tighter with each stroke. He felt the bed shift and looked down to see Bull moving to straddle him. He licked his lips as Bull pressed their hips together, shuddering as Bull reached between them and squeezed their lengths together for a long, firm stroke. Then Bull grabbed Cullen's hands and brought them together, holding his wrists in one hand that he slammed into the wall above Cullen's head.

Cullen's breath caught, and for a moment--a bare moment--a panic set in as he realized that he was effectively pinned. In the next moment, though, he felt a heated tingling wash over his body as the heady sensation of _not needing to be in control_ settled in. He could trust Bull, he felt that instinctively, and somehow he knew that Bull knew what he needed. A distant thought of Dorian teased at his mind, but mostly it was to think of what it would be like if Dorian were in the bed with them. The thought was enough to make his eyes roll back in his head and his hips to thrust upwards, which was answered by a sharp slap on his hip.

"Not too eager, there, Commander," Bull said with a grunt, then wrapped his fingers around their lengths with his free hand. When his hips began to move, Cullen couldn't help but moan as Bull's cock rubbed along his, each and every ridge and vein adding a new little spice to the intimate connection. Bull leaned in until his belly--which, unsurprisingly, turned out to be a solid wall of muscle--pressed just on the edge of being too much on top of Cullen. It never got to that point, though--neither in the weight nor the pleasure. That tension kept rising, though, and with each rock forward of Bull's hips he felt the heavy weight of Bull's balls slam against him in a continuing promise of what was to come. Something about the weight pressing him down, the hand pinning his arms to the wall, and just the sheer size of the cock rubbing against his own length... Cullen felt that tension throughout his body wind up faster and faster, not caring if his pants and moans grew louder and louder with each thrust and squeeze.

When the crest did finally hit him, the muscles throughout his entire body convulsed before clenching into one hard knot that sucked all the tension into a hard ball at the base of his spine. When he finally released, it was a release in all meanings of the word: his voice, his tension, his seed--all seemed to explode from him at the same level of heated intensity that left the world white and sparkling behind his eyelids. Even when he opened his eyes, he saw flashing bursts of light, and it took him a moment to come back from the brink of such an intense orgasm.

Slowly it came to him that Bull had released his arms and was supporting himself on both of his hands as he panted above Cullen. Unable to help himself, Cullen glanced down and couldn't help but chuckle at the sheer size of the mess they'd made on his torso. "Good thing I didn't take a bath before I went to bed," he managed. 

Bull chuckled, the rumble still shivering up Cullen's body with a tantalizing depth that left Cullen gasping. "Feeling better?"

Cullen let his eyelids slide shut as he took assessment of himself. He felt...light, as if he were floating above the bed despite the now comforting weight of the man on top of him. "Yes," he breathed, opening his eyes so he could meet Bull's one-eyed gaze. "So much better."

"That's what I like to hear." Bull slowly pulled back, glancing down at Cullen with a little smirk that spoke volumes and sparked a flush as Cullen wondered what he looked like. "I'll get a towel," he said, and walked to the bureau in the corner where a small pile of washcloths rested next to a water basin for Cullen's ablutions.

As Bull wet and squeezed some cloths, Cullen stared up at the night sky, ears slowly turning crimson as he contemplated the jagged opening in his roof and his recent, rather exuberant, exhortations--and also fully aware that the whole tavern had seen him leave with Bull. By the time Bull came back, his whole face was heated as he contemplated the possibility that all of Skyhold would have heard him over the course of the last hour. As Bull came back and sat on the bed, Cullen had trouble looking at him as he ventured, "Was I--"

"Best not to think about it," Bull said. "Just close your eyes and let me take care of you." 

Cullen did so, feeling a bit silly at first. He quickly discovered that, just like before, there was something immensely comforting about the huge man caring for him like this. As the towel moved over his skin, he found himself studying Bull's face, every haggard line of a hard life accompanied by a surfeit of scars, his own experience able to fill in the fights and brawls that must have occurred to leave Bull in such a state. He glanced down at the hand working the cloth, noting once more the missing fingers, and remembering Krem's story of how Bull had saved him with little regard to his own life. "You...like helping people, don't you?"

"I'm kind of trained to it," Bull said as he set one cloth aside and started with another one. "The Qun emphasizes that each person must contribute to the overall good of the whole."

"As a spy?" Cullen asked, raising an eyebrow as for a moment he fought the suspicion that this was all a ploy by Bull to get Cullen to let his guard down.

"Same as your Spymaster," Bull pointed out.

"But you work for the Qun," Cullen said, feeling an odd tightness in his chest.

"I work for the Inquisition. I report to the Qun, after passing everything through Red," he said. "She hasn't had to rewrite any of my reports yet."

Cullen nodded slowly, trying to work his way through the man's loyalties as stated. "I think I understand." He fell silent as Bull dropped the second cloth and took the third one to clean himself up. "Bull, I...I never intended this to happen. I didn't--"

"Want it?" Bull asked, glancing up. "Nah, I get that. You've been all doe-eyed for Dorian."

"What? No, I--" Cullen snapped his mouth shut as Bull chuckled. "How did you know?"

"I'm a trained spy, Commander," Bull pointed out. "Maybe someone else wouldn't have noticed you two playing footsie under the chess table, but it was pretty hard to miss from where I stood. Besides, he gets a certain look about him when he's thinking about handsome men."

The thought of Dorian daydreaming about him made Cullen flushe, and he looked away. "That is none of your business."

Bull barked a laugh. "Maybe not. But yeah, I know you weren't particularly looking for something like this with me. But I'm pretty good at seeing what people need. And you need Dorian to fuck you hard." Ignoring Cullen's sudden crimson hue, Bull picked up the soiled cloths and moved to toss them in the laundry basket next to Cullen's bureau. "And since he's not here, I did the next best thing. And you do look better, you know."

"I--I do feel better," Cullen admitted.

"And that's good for the Inquisition. Remember, I'm Qunari," Bull reminded him. "We don't get hung up on all the emotional stuff that goes along with a good fuck. To us, it's stress relief, or pleasure, or celebration of a successful mission. It's not mixed up in all the complications you Southerners are so known for." As Cullen frowned and puzzled over those words, Bull sat on the bed again. "What I mean is...if you need some stress relief, I'm right here. All right? Promise me you won't let yourself get to the point of running the Inquisition troops into the ground just because you're horny for your boyfriend."

Cullen glared at Bull, but found only a neutral expression tinged with enough amusement that Cullen realized the man was teasing him--mostly. Laughing sheepishly, he reached up to rub his face with his hands. "Andraste's knicker weasels, I don't ever want to hear anyone say something like that again," he groaned.

"So you'll keep my offer in mind?" Bull asked.

"I will, you beast," Cullen muttered, echoing Dorian's term for him. "Though...maybe not here. The...the roof..." He glanced up, his ears and cheeks reddening as he wondered just how many people had heard him.

"Leave all the logistics to me," Bull said with a slow wink. "I know what you need. Probably better than you do, most days."

Though dubious about that particular claim, in the end Cullen simply nodded. "I am exhausted now, though," he admitted.

With a grin, Bull stood. "You better be. I tried my best to wear you out." As Cullen blushed, Bull reached down and pulled the blanket out from under Cullen in one swift tug, then drew it up around him again. "Now get some sleep, Commander. Even if you don't run those five extra miles, you'll still be busy. Just promise me you won't let it get this bad again, all right?"

Cullen swallowed, staring up at the man as he loomed over the bed. "I'll do my best."

Bull's eye narrowed, and his hand landed between Cullen's legs, squeezing and rubbing up and down. "That didn't sound like a promise," he pointed out.

After a sharp inhale, Cullen squirmed his hips as Bull played with bits now tender from his intense orgasm earlier. "P-promise!" he gasped. When Bull relented and withdrew his hand, Cullen glared at him again. "You don't play fair."

"I play to win, Commander. And so should you." Bull gave him a lopsided grin. "Maybe I could even teach you how to win at chess."

"You're on," Cullen said without thinking. 

When Bull abruptly leaned over him, Cullen's breath caught in his throat. "Care to make a wager on the outcome?" Bull asked with a grin.

Maker's breath. Cullen swallowed harshly, knowing that Bull could not have missed the physical reaction he'd had at the question. "As long as it goes both ways," he said, albeit in a voice that was a touch breathy.

"Damn right it does," Bull said, squeezing his hand before pulling back and standing up. "See you tomorrow, Commander. Mid-morning at the chess table."

Cullen nodded, wondering if it was still a good idea but unable to resist the offer. "I'll be there." And, Maker help him, he _knew_ he would be there. 

Whether or not he wanted to actually win anymore was a matter he debated long after Bull dressed and departed.


	3. Hard Handling

In the weeks following, as Skyhold waited for its leader to return from expanding the limits of her reach, Cullen bounced back and forth between avoiding Bull and succumbing to the temptation of a chess game. Sometimes, the wager was just a wager--money, a round of drinks, or a trinket bought from one of the many merchants who now passed through Skyhold as the reputation of the Inquisition grew and spread. Other times, well... Other times it was definitely _not_ something so simple.

Over time, Cullen grew accustomed to the knowing glances of his troops, though he noticed with some relief that no one seemed to object to the notion of the Commander of the Inquisition dallying with a Qunari spy. Of course, he _wa_ s taken aside by Leliana for a very brief and incredibly embarrassing lecture about what to keep an eye out for when dealing with the Qunari, including what sorts of questions to avoid, and what to prevent Bull from seeing. It was on Leliana's advice that they stopped meeting in Cullen's office and relocated to Bull's quarters and the top of a small tower, mainly so that Bull wouldn't have a prime opportunity to rifle through Cullen's papers too freely. Of course, it meant that the walk from Bull's quarters back to his own tower elicited even more grins and knowing looks, but since it didn't also correspond with a diminished sense of his authority, Cullen decided that it was preferable to running his men into the ground because, as Bull put it, he was horny for Vint cock.

Still, Leliana's advice _had_ come with a bit of a shock. Most of her lecture had been things he _should_ have considered for himself, after all, but when she mentioned at the end that she'd had a similar lecture with Dorian after _his_ dalliance with Bull, Cullen's eyes widened. "Dorian?"

"Of course, Dorian," Leliana said, obviously amused. "He goes to the tavern almost as much as Bull. I imagine their first night was much the same as yours with him."

Cullen swallowed, avoiding Leliana's amused gaze as he mumbled his excuses and left the room. On his way back to his quarters, he tried to remember that last conversation he'd had with Dorian at the chess table, when Bull had come up. The little awkward moments stood out strongly now, and he wondered how he'd missed it before. More importantly, of course, he tried to figure out if it changed anything. The thought turned around in his head over and over again as he made his way to his desk, until finally, as he took his seat to begin work on his next set of reports, he decided it didn't. Bull liked to help people. He'd helped Cullen--repeatedly, by this point. But that didn't really have any bearing on how Cullen felt about Dorian--or, hopefully, the reverse.

The thought lingered with him for days, shifting how he looked at Bull. Something about _knowing_ that Bull and Dorian had passed time together much like Cullen and Bull had made him feel a bit more bold around the man, though after a few weeks had passed, their interludes remained infrequent, if still _noticed_ by most in Skyhold.

When word finally arrived that the Inquisitor was due to arrive at Skyhold later that day, Cullen felt even more restless than ever. He prowled the ramparts, trying to focus on his duties and his troops when really he was just watching for the curl of snow dust that was the earliest sign of someone starting up the long and winding road leading to the gates of Skyhold. Lunch came and went, and when the sun started to set, Cullen sighed and decided that the Inquisitor must have met with a delay. _Perhaps tomorrow,_ he said, shaking his head, and pushed his way into his office. 

As he started to remove his gauntlets, a message on his desk caught his eye. It looked to be rolled up, as if it had been delivered to Skyhold by one of Leliana's ravens, but usually messages of such import were brought to his attention immediately. Quickly he picked it up, hoping the contents weren't dire, and felt his ears flush with heat as he read the few words within:

_Make sure you swallow something hard when I return._

Cullen couldn't help himself--he bit his lip at the thought. Certainly Bull had made sure that he hadn't been deprived of being touched, but...the idea of doing something with Dorian's cock after such a long period of doing without... He shuddered and quickly turned the paper over, in case there were further instructions. _Be ready._

Frowning, Cullen flipped the paper over again, but found nothing had changed. Still, he had his instructions, and the more he pondered them, the more he realized what it meant. After all, the last few times he'd received such a note, whatever Cullen had inflicted upon Dorian, the mage had turned right back around and done to _him_. And if that trend held true...

After a moment of nibbling his lower lip, Cullen quickly moved to bar the two side doors of his office, then snuffed the candles until only one or two remained lit, enough so he could see what he was doing. Only then did he strip, removing his armor and shirt, then his boots as an afterthought. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to leave the pants on, but unlaced, so that someone could get easy access to whatever they needed. The prospect of what was to come made his blood thrum through his veins and keep him warm despite the chill in the air, and he really didn't want to make Dorian have to work hard to access his own hardness. His mouth went dry at the thought, and quickly he went to the sidebar and poured himself a glass as he obsessively watched the sky outside darken.

When the door to his office opened, he had emptied three such glasses, which meant when he whirled to face Dorian as the man entered his office, he acted without hesitation. Moving towards Dorian, he pushed the door shut behind him, then tugged the man close. "Welcome home," he murmured, then pulled the man into a searing kiss.

Dorian leaned into the kiss, apparently unsurprised by this development. It seemed he had been drinking a bit of liquid courage, too, and the brandy on their respective tongues mixed and mingled as they devoured each other's mouths in a brash display of passion. Cullen's hands set to work on Dorian's clothes, though he didn't make many inroads until Dorian stepped in to help him. Soon enough, both men stood only in their pants, and at that point Cullen wound his fingers into the top of Dorian's trousers and yanked them down.

Dorian's hands tightened where they rested on Cullen's hips, and he tilted his head as he said in a teasing tone, "Why, Commander, are you--"

"Hush," Cullen ordered, then took Dorian's lips with his own once more as his hands continued to push the obstructing cloth away. Once the pants were gone, the smalls followed with a quick tug that filled the air with the sound of torn cloth, and Cullen grabbed one of Dorian's hands to pull him towards his desk. He _had_ been intending to go up the ladder to use the bed, but...well, he didn't really want to wait that long.

As soon as Dorian's back was pinned against his desk, Cullen manhandled him up onto the desk and then jerked Dorian's knees apart with one swift motion. With a grin as he saw just how eager Dorian was to continue, Cullen spent a few moments making sure Dorian's ass was in the perfect place before he knelt down and sucked the tip into his mouth.

One of Dorian's hands settled on Cullen's head as he let out a throaty moan, hips squirming as Cullen inexorably drew Dorian into his mouth one inch at a time, exploring thoroughly with his tongue. Wrapping his arms around Dorian's thighs, he locked them into place--a bit farther apart than would be normal--and set himself to the talk of swallowing something hard. Of course, he had to make sure that it was as hard as he could possibly make it, so he spent quite a bit of time teasing and licking, taking advantage of the widespread legs to pull off Dorian's rigid length so he could mouth and suck at the increasingly taut balls beneath. 

Dorian certainly wasn't being shy about his enjoyment, though his second hand flailed a bit to find a good hold on anything. Cullen ignored the flurry of papers his efforts sent to the floor, knowing this was far more important, especially at this moment. Eventually he reduced Dorian to a litany of breathless little moans interspersed with pleas made mostly of Cullen's name, until Cullen felt the telltale trembling in the thighs he held so tightly in his grasp.

Resetting himself slightly, Cullen sucked Dorian's tip into his mouth, then pushed himself down until he felt short, soft hairs brushing his nose and chin. Only then did he move his own hands to Dorian's hips, pulling them up so that as much as was humanly possible was pushed into Cullen's throat, working past his gag reflex until the entirety of Dorian's delicious length was fully seated. 

Apparently unable to withstand that sort of treatment, Dorian gave a full-throated moan as his hips bucked wildly. Cullen's grip on them controlled the movement, but he didn't loosen his grip until he'd sucked every last bit of the salty-sweet cum that he could massage from Dorian's balls. When Dorian collapsed onto his elbows on the desk, panting heavily, Cullen finally released his rigid control and slowly pulled himself away from Dorian, smiling in satisfaction at the utter bliss on Dorian's face. "Did I mention that I missed you?" he asked with a chuckle as he wiped at the corners of his mouth. His throat might be a bit sore, but certainly one couldn't say he hadn't followed directions.

On the other hand, as he slowly pushed himself to his feet and watched Dorian struggle to regain his breath, he became increasingly aware of the ache in his trousers. Just seeing Dorian lying there naked with legs akimbo made him lick his lips, his eyes moving between Dorian's face and groin. Before he could decide what he wanted to suggest on what they could do next, however, Dorian finally managed to push himself upright and off the table. "You," Dorian growled, tapping Cullen on his sternum with a little zap of magical energy, enough to make Cullen jump. "I will have my revenge for that."

Cullen smirked. "Oh?" 

Dorian's face grew stern. "Don't get smug with me, Commander. I have entire bags of tricks I've never unleashed upon you."

"That certainly sounds like a threat," Cullen mused. "Should I be worried?"

Dorian's hands grasped the top of Cullen's pants. "Extremely." With a single motion, he pushed Cullen's pants and smalls down to his knees, leaving Cullen to hiss as his erection bounced free. Wrapping a hand around it and squeezing, Dorian turned and tugged Cullen after him, moving just fast enough that Cullen couldn't pull up his pants but slow enough that Cullen could keep up without falling over. Once they'd rounded Cullen's desk, Dorian twirled them in place until he could shove Cullen into his own chair. "I've always wanted to do this," he admitted, his voice practically a purr. "Where is your mantle, again?"

"Ah, my...my armor valet," Cullen breathed, gesturing upstairs to his bedroom. As Dorian moved to get it, Cullen's eyes remained locked on his ass, unable to look away from such an image of perfection. He had just enough state of mind to kick off his trousers before Dorian came back, hands full of the fur mantle and a pillow he'd snagged from Cullen's bed. "Wh-what are you--"

"Like I said," Dorian said with a smirk. "I've always wanted to do this. That doesn't mean I need to be a barbarian and do it on bare knees." With a bit of maneuvering, Dorian wedged himself under the desk, leaving Cullen wondering just how he'd never noticed how much room there actually was there. He jerked when Dorian reached out and pulled on the legs of Cullen's chair, then held up the mantle to him. "Put it on."

"What?" Cullen asked, then bit his lip as Dorian shoved himself between Cullen's knees with a single-minded determination. 

"The mantle. I want you wearing it while I make your toes curl," Dorian said, a gleam in his eyes. "Now, Commander."

Heart pounding in his chest, Cullen wrapped the mantle around his shoulders and used the tie to fasten it. In the next moment, however, he was pulled deeper under the desk, and his hands rose to wrap around the edge of the desk as he gasped in surprise.

And then a warmth closed around the tip of his cock.

A guttural groan escaped his lips as his head dropped back, all thoughts scattered as Dorian set himself to his task. Cullen's toes did, indeed, curl, and his hands tightened their grip on the wood of the desk as Dorian's tongue and lips and fingers all entered the fray. "Do-Dorian," he gasped, then realized he really had nothing more to say other than, "More." Or perhaps "Sweet fucking Andraste," which he used more than a few times as time passed. He didn't even realize that his eyes had closed until he heard a soft sound on the other side of the room, and he jerked his head back up, ready to tell Dorian to stop.

He paused as he saw Bull step into his office, and cursed himself that he hadn't barred the door behind Dorian. Even as his mouth opened to say something, however, Bull pressed a finger to his lips, then softly slid the bar home behind him. As Cullen watched with parted lips, Bull slowly loosened his belt and let his pants drop until he could ease his own cock from his pants. With a slow wink at Cullen, his hands closed around it and slowly began to stroke, up and down, until Bull stood at full attention.

The sight, combined with the relentless onslaught below the desk, reduced Cullen to a breathless whimper. He didn't think he would last very long, but somehow Dorian kept managing to coax him close to release without ever pushing him over the edge. The man had some sort of damnable instinct that told him exactly when to back off. In those intervals, his eyes remained locked on Bull, licking his lips every time a drop of precum welled out of that marvelously large cock, surprised that he wanted to be the one to lick every drop off. The cycle continued until Cullen's breath came in short, desperate pants, and somewhere in the interim his hands had buried themselves in the fur of his mantle for lack of anything better to grab.

Suddenly Dorian pushed Cullen's legs even farther apart, eliciting a soft gasp as Cullen started and looked down. He couldn't see anything, of course, so his eyes inevitably returned to Bull, biting his lip at the increased tension in lower body. When an oil-slicked finger found and gently teased at his entrance, however, Cullen couldn't help the long, low moan that escaped his lips. 

That moan seemed to finally unleash Dorian, who went from a slow and sensual pace to something far more primal. The probing finger slipped inside fully, quickly joined by another, and he felt Dorian pull his length into his mouth until the ticklish hairs of a delightfully curved mustache teased the soft skin around the base of his cock. The stimulation of all the elements--the increasingly forceful tongue lashing and finger diving, combined with the intentionally lewd display Bull was giving him--proved to be too much, and he gave a ragged cry as all the tension unwound all at once. Dorian hooked his fingers deep inside Cullen and used the chair for leverage as he held himself close, taking in every drop Cullen had to offer. Equally erotic was the sight of Bull throwing his head back and uttering a groan so deep that it was a wonder Cullen couldn't feel it through the floor. Somehow Bull had managed to pull out a handkerchief, or Cullen would have had a _very_ odd mess to explain to the servants. Still, just the knowledge that Bull had cum just from watching Cullen in such a state...it stayed with Cullen even as he lay limp and panting in the chair, the echoes of his orgasm twitching and twinging through every limb.

Bull, for his part, leaned back against the door as he recovered, smirking all the while. By the time Dorian had pulled away from Cullen and eased his hold on Cullen's legs, Bull had managed to pull up his own pants. He gave Cullen a silent salute, then reached behind him and unbarred the door, slipping silently out of the room as if he'd never been there. When Dorian emerged from the cocoon beneath the desk, it was as if Bull had never been a part of it.

But Cullen knew otherwise, and it made him shiver just to remember it.

Dorian, meanwhile, seemed utterly please with himself as he moved to straddle Cullen in his chair. "Swallowing something hard isn't so very unpleasant, is it?" he murmured, running his fingers up and down Cullen's bare chest. "I must say, I do like a man with muscles. And yours are quite lovely."

A flash of Bull's torso went through Cullen's mind, but fled quickly as Cullen settled his hands on Dorian's ass, happy to handle what he had only previously admired from afar. "No matter where those muscles are, hmm?" he asked with a wicked grin.

"No matter where," Dorian said with a chuckle. "I must say, Commander, I hope this isn't our last interlude. I've come to enjoy our time together."

"As have I." Cullen tilted his head a bit as he considered the man's words, thinking back over their time together, and the cocky grin on his face smoothed into something more gentle. "All of it. Not just the more vigorous parts."

Dorian chuckled, though Cullen noticed that his shoulders dropped, as if a subtle tension had just released. "You are a stimulating chess opponent, I'll grant you that. But I do enjoy our talks. Even when we disagree."

With a laugh, Cullen squeezed his double handful of delectable ass. "You mean _especially_ when we disagree. You love a good discussion."

"I do, but mostly only with people who are willing to listen. Like you." Dorian leaned in and placed a soft kiss on Cullen's lips. It was oddly hesitant, as if Dorian was ready to pull away at any moment.

Cullen released Dorian's ass long enough to sink his hand into Dorian's hair, deepening and lengthening the kiss so that Dorian would have no excuse to think that it was unwelcome. When their lips parted, Cullen gave Dorian only the barest moment to breathe before bringing them together again, repeating the process until Dorian's lips and cheeks glowed. "I will always listen," Cullen murmured. "And I'll never push you away."

The expression on Dorian's face would remain with Cullen for the rest of his days, a mixture of joy and wonder that seemed to be at odds with the rather cavalier and vain persona which Dorian preferred to adopt. A pity he never got a chance to explore it, since the door burst open to allow Scout Jim through. "Commander! Inquisitor says you need to--"

"Not now!" Cullen bellowed, hoping beyond hope that at least Dorian's ass wasn't visible above the line of the desk.

An embarrassed squawk was all he heard before Jim vacated the office, slamming the door so quickly that it could probably be heard around Skyhold. Dorian laughed as Cullen ground his teeth in frustration, then worked his way off of Cullen's lap. "You heard the lad," he said with barely suppressed amusement. "The Inquisitor has called a meeting. Probably about the information we found while scouring the Western Approach."

"Of all the worst possible timing," Cullen grumbled, then sighed. "But you'll be here a while, right? In Skyhold, I mean?"

"That's up to Cadash," Dorian said. "But...hopefully." The heated look he sent to Cullen made Cullen's mouth go dry all in an instant. "I have _plans,_ Commander. Just so you are aware."

"Maker's breath, I hope so," Cullen gasped before he could stop himself. As Dorian chuckled, Cullen shook his head and stood. "You're terrible."

"In more ways that you can possibly imagine, Commander," Dorian teased him as he pulled on his clothes. "And if you're lucky, I'll demonstrate exactly how to you in glorious detail."

Which was a thought guaranteed to keep Cullen distracted throughout the whole meeting. Leliana and Josephine took full advantage of it, naturally, though Cadash simply watched with amusement in her eyes. Still, he endured, pushing back as good as he got when the opportunity arose and in general trying to avoid looking too much the fool.

And, in the back of his mind, he wondered when he would find the next piece of paper.


	4. Lend a Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in publication. I honestly forgot that I had already finished this chapter but not yet published it, and then the holidays and then... _*gestures at everything*_
> 
> Anyway. Enjoy some thirsty sweetness in these troubled times.

The following days were very busy at first, leaving no time for Dorian or mysterious notes. The bulk of his mornings were consumed with sessions with the Inquisitor and her other Advisors as they steered the Inquisition along its path. However, Cullen had a few suspicions of his own about why the Inquisitor kept calling an abrupt end to the sessions when he realized that almost every time he came to a meeting, he found the Inquisitor and Josephine already in close conversation at her desk, and, from Leliana's expression, she saw it too. When the morning meetings mysteriously stopped a few days later but the Inquisitor kept spending time with Josephine, Cullen took it in stride, grateful to have a bit more time to his duties--and, hopefully, other matters.

The first morning with no War Table meeting, another mysterious note appeared on his desk, but this time it was attached to a small box. He read the note, then re-read it in puzzlement. Once he opened the box and saw what was inside, however, his eyes widened, and he quickly read the note again to make sure he understood it correctly.

_Time to prepare for what is to come, and don't forget about chess_

Closing the box quickly, he took it, the note, and his newly refilled bottle of oil up the ladder. With a long, slow breath, he opened the box again and removed the contents, rolling the oddly shaped device in his hand as his pulse raced in anticipation. Taking the bottle of oil, he put the bulbous device back in the box, then quickly removed his clothes before pouring a healthy measure of oil on his fingers and laying back on the bed, spreading his knees wide as he probed between his legs.

He had two fingers buried deep when the door opened, and his eyes widened. A soft curse escaped his lips before he could stop it, and he heard the heavy footsteps below come to a halt. "Commander?" he heard Bull's gruff voice call as the door closed again. "That you? I just had a quick question about the Chargers' next mission."

Cullen's heart raced as the solid weight of Bull made the ladder creak. It would only have been the work of an instant to pull his fingers out, of course, and yet...and yet, somehow, he found himself pushing them in deeper, stretching his entrance and eliciting a moan just as a horned head appeared over the ladder.

"Well, now," Bull said with a deep, rumbling chuckle as he took in the tableau spread out on the bed. "Looks like someone doesn't need me for stress relief anymore."

"Th-that's not it," Cullen gasped, still unable to stop the flush of his cheeks even after everything he'd already shared with Bull. "I just--"

"Heard me and wanted to ask for my help?" Bull asked as he walked to the bed and gently tugged Cullen's hand away from its task. "Hm? What's this?"

Cullen looked down as Bull picked up the open box and studied the contents. When the man let out a hearty laugh, Cullen's flush deepened. "I--"

"You don't have to explain," Bull told him with a broad grin. "The Tamassran had a whole chest of these, of all different sizes and shapes. They took their job of keeping us stress-free seriously. But yeah, I can help. Let's turn you over." Cullen barely suppressed a yelp as Bull's hands grabbed him by the hips and flipped him over with an ease that made Cullen's cock pulse. "That's better. Now, then, where did you put the--Perfect."

Cullen bit his lip and bowed his head, resettling himself to be a bit more balanced on his elbows and knees as the sound of Bull slicking something with oil echoed in the room. When something hot touched Cullen's rim, however, he shivered as he realized it _wasn't_ what had been in the box, but one of Bull's sizable fingers. "Wha--"

"I figure it's better to start this way," Bull said. "Besides, it means I'm in a position to do this."

Cullen jumped as Bull's hand smacked his ass, trying and failing to hold back the soft moan as it slipped past his lips. _"Maker!"_

"Not quite, but I like to think I'm more fun," Bull shot back.

Too distracted to object to Bull's casual blasphemy, Cullen pushed himself back onto the finger. "You really are a beast," he said through grated teeth.

"Glad you like it," Bull said, working his finger in even deeper before beginning to twirl and flex it around. "Because I'm not done yet."

_Sweet blessed Andraste..._ Cullen couldn't help but roll his hips and moan as that finger danced inside of him. It wasn't so much the depth as what it was touching, and the way the movement teased at the sensitive ring of flesh that wasn't accustomed to being stretched this wide. It bordered on painful but sidestepped it by taking a further step into something delightfully carnal, and when Bull pulled his finger out, Cullen couldn't help but whimper in need, remembering Bull's promise that he wasn't done yet.

Indeed, in the next moment another slap caught him hard on the ass, making him inhale swiftly as he tensed and relaxed. In the moment of relaxation, he felt a nudge at his entrance, and a tingling went up his spine as he felt two of Bull's fingers tease him. They circled around first, making sure the little circle of skin was well oiled and tingling from stimulation, then slowly pushed in, stretching him wider and wider. Occasionally Bull would halt the fingers, giving Cullen time to adjust, and inevitably as Cullen relaxed, a hand would pop his ass and make him jump. It was a delicious dance between _too much_ and _needing more,_ adding a level of raw pleasure that Cullen had never let himself explore before.

By the time Bull's fingers were inside him completely, Cullen felt full in a way he never could have imagined. Oh, he'd had men in his bed before, as well as women, but nothing compared to the outright sexuality of being on his hands and knees while a man who could literally toss Cullen in the air like a toy fucked him with his fingers. It may not have held the growing tenderness growing between himself and Dorian, but it _did_ answer a raw need deep within him for someone to _take care of it so he didn't have to_ \--even if, in this case, _it_ was Cullen's pleasure.

He felt the bed creak, and shivered as Bull's breath fell on his ear. "Now," Bull said in a deep voice that seemed to make the bed quiver, "ride them."

_That_ sent a pulse down his back, one that shot straight through to Cullen's rigid cock with a little enthusiastic bounce. Slowly, Cullen began to rock back and forth, pulling away from Bull's fingers before shoving himself back onto them. He shifted his position as he did so, until he found the perfect balance between knees and elbows to really find a good momentum that would let him increase the speed--and thus force Bull's fingers in as deeply as they would go.

As the pace increased, so too did the timing and force of Bull's slaps, until Cullen knew that both of his asscheeks were as red as his face while he rode Bull's fingers with a determination that equaled--or perhaps even surpassed--the ferocity he reserved for the field of battle. The sounds of his own moans couldn't quite manage to penetrate his awareness as he chased after the peak of his own pleasure, squirming and writhing and thrusting with abandon until, finally, he shoved hard against the mattress and pounded back into Bull, pushing himself and tightening around those fingers as an orgasm surged through him with enough intensity that his blanket ripped between his hands.

Only then did he collapse, panting, on the bed, his ass high in the air as the force of his climax took him and shook his world for an endless wash of time. Dimly he was aware of Bull withdrawing his fingers, and, a few moments later, lowering Cullen to the bed. It was only as gentle fingers worked a lotion on the burning, sensitive skin of his backside that he realized Bull hadn't just left him to his own devices. Blearily, he half lifted himself off the bed to look back at Bull as he said, "Wha--"

"Well, I couldn't very well leave you in that condition, could I?" Bull asked with a warm chuckle. "Lie down. Relax. Let me take care of everything for you."

For a long moment Cullen considered those words, and then smiled as he lowered himself back down. Closing his eyes, he let himself truly relax into the moment, relishing the feel of those huge hands as they massaged his buttocks and his sore thighs before moving on to the rest of him, leaving him rather limp with relief. The torn and soiled blanket was replaced, and a warm washcloth applied to Cullen's face and left there for warm soothing. For the final step of care, Bull wrapped Cullen up in both blanket and his own expansive, warm embrace, something that Cullen hadn't even know he craved until he felt himself pressed against Bull's barrel chest. How long he floated in that bliss of heat and warmth--one that was devoid of sexuality, yet which remained wholly sensual--Cullen didn't know. Finally, inevitably, the warm washcloth cooled and chilled from the mountain air coming in through the broken window above, and that was the cue for Bull to open his arms and release Cullen back into the world.

"You know," Cullen said with a little breathy chuckle of his own, "We never got around to actually...you know." He nodded at the box that Bull had set on the bureau next to the bed. 

"I hadn't forgotten," Bull said with a laugh. "Don't worry." 

Cullen took him at his word, watching from a rare moment of utter relaxation as Bull stood and moved to the dresser. As his eyes wandered over the large man's body, a thought suddenly occurred to him. "Bull, wait. What about... I mean, I know I made quite the mess, but you..." He bit his lip, not quite sure how to ask if the man had taken care of himself or not.

"I'm good," Bull said with a grin. "That blanket needed replacing for a multitude of reasons, and it wasn't all your fault. Just watching you let go like that? Yeah. I'm here for that any time."

Cullen felt his cheeks darken a bit, but he didn't look away from Bull as he replied, "I'll keep that in mind."

"You do that." Retrieving the box and the vial of oil still next to it, Bull turned and knelt on the bed. "Now, just stay relaxed."

Cullen did so, keeping his body practically limp as Bull applied the oil to all the necessary places both inside and out before slowly pushing the toy into Cullen. "If I'd known you were into this sort of thing, I'd have gotten you a set," Bull said with a grunt as he wiggled the nub enough for Cullen's toes to curl. "Give me the word, and I will."

"A--a set?" Cullen asked, tone a bit strained. It was one thing to have something there during sex, but another to have it just...there, always ready to wiggle around and cause all sorts of pleasurable sensations. "Why?"

Bull raised an eyebrow. "Let's just say I've got more to offer than just two fingers worth," he said. "But you might want to build up to it. Like building up to a heavier weapon, you know? Gotta do it methodically. Carefully." Bull leaned over and tapped the nub between Cullen's legs, making it shift and move inside him. "Thoroughly."

Cullen gasped, his hands grasping handfuls of his new blanket. _Sweet Maker._ "I--I'll keep that in mind." 

"You do that."

Suddenly Cullen realized that the sun was shining down directly on him from above, and he cursed. "Dorian!"

Bull sniffed thoughtfully. "Well, you might not need the _whole_ set to get ready for him, but definitely more than--"

"No, no, I'm due for a chess match with him," Cullen explained hastily, even as he realized that Bull's casual comment would definitely haunt him during the chess match. "Help me get my clothes and armor."

In a matter of a few minutes, Cullen was dressed and more or less presentable, and Bull clapped him on the shoulder. "All right, better get going. Though now I'm really wondering about the timing of getting that toy in place if you were going to go meet him. Makes me think."

Cullen glared at him, then relented and rubbed the back of his neck for a moment. "Ah. I'm not quite sure. He's been sending me these notes, and...well..."

"Really? Sly demon. Leave it to the Vint to somehow involve reading in sex," Bull said with a chuckle. "Well, I'll make sure you get down the ladder safely, at least."

An embarrassing and thrilling minute or two later, since apparently Bull's idea of _getting safely down the ladder_ involved being thrown over the brute's shoulder like a Plains maiden, Cullen hurried to the garden where Dorian was surely waiting impatiently.

When he got there, the first thing he did was blurt out, "Sorry I'm late. I...ah, there was an unexpected report I had to attend to." He wasn't sure why he didn't tell Dorian about Bull, but something held the information tucked behind his lips.

"I suppose I'll have to think of an appropriate punishment for such lack of manners," Dorian teased him. "Whatever shall I do?"

"We'll just have to figure that out, won't we?" Cullen said as he took his seat, tugging off his gauntlets out of habit and setting them next to the table. He paused and squirmed a bit, trying to find a position where he wasn't fully aware of just how _full_ he was, and finally gave up. There was simply no escaping it.

When Dorian squirmed in much the same way, Cullen raised an eyebrow, but decided not to remark on it until Dorian sighed and leaned back in his chair. "For some reason I'm finding it difficult to concentrate at the moment. Don't hold it against me if I don't trounce you immediately."

A slow grin came to Cullen's face, and he leaned forward so that he could drop his voice. "Care to make a wager against the outcome?"

Dorian's lips twitched with amusement. "We shall just have to see what comes."

Cullen leaned back, shifting a bit as he did so out of necessity, and gestured to Dorian. "After you."

Which, as it turned out, was the order in which they came after retiring to Dorian's quarters.


End file.
